


Man of His Dreams

by DatLAG



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Declarations Of Love, Hurt/Comfort, Kamukura Izuru Project | Hope Cultivation Plan, M/M, Needles, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Scars, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatLAG/pseuds/DatLAG
Summary: Just another night of nightmares. And for once, it's Nagito doing the comforting.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90





	Man of His Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> For once it's Hajime who gets post-canon angst.

Everything hurt. It was a sensation midway between pins and needles in all limbs and immeasurable pain. Hajime had a headache. Or did he? He wasn’t sure, he had a hard time keeping himself conscious, the pain was taking a toll on him.

His vision was blurry, but he knew one thing, he didn’t want to do this anymore. He tried saying as much, he didn’t know if those words actually came out of his mouth.

His view readjusted as he opened his eyes. Everything was blue and black, neon light assaulting his retinas. People were talking, tall people cloaked in white.

He didn’t like that, he didn’t like it at all.

One of those people reached into their whiteness, and pulled out something long, the end of it shining, a sharp needle filled with a liquid. Hajime recognized those, those were the medication to numb his mind back to unconsciousness, back to a toy to be tweaked with.

He wanted to scream at the figures to stay away, he wanted to struggle, he wasn’t sure if he managed to, but the needle was drawing closer and closer, shining ever brightly against the blue neon, dripping with the liquid inside it.

There was a sting on his arm and his consciousness was brought back to reality.

* * *

The ocean’s scent was one of the Lucky Student’s favorite ways to calm down. Like everyone around the island he was sure, he had frequent nightmares. All of them had been diagnosed with PTSD, and this was one of the main ways it would manifest. A curse haunting them into their dreams. Ghost of the past refusing to lay rest.

Nagito had one tonight, a vivid reminder as of why he now wore a prosthetic instead of flesh. He held tightly onto his robotic limb as he strolled on the white sand. He hung on to one comforting thought, he might have lost his original limb to his own despair, but now he had a new one, crafted with hope and care by none other than Hajime, reborn inside the empty shell of Izuru Kamukura.

He traced all of the fingers. He could remember the test performed vividly, sensibility, mouvement, reaction time… He recalled when Hajime asked him to hold his hand to see if he could still feel the warmth of another being through the wires connected to his nervous systems. A memory he looked back on fondly.

Kazuichi helped out too, especially to upgrade some functions further. Mikan had bandaged up his wounds, the one opened back when pulling out the… foreign limb, and those made by Genocide Jack on his knees. She had given him daily meds to help him recover or his miraculously cured cancer and dementia as well, he was very thankful for her help. The Ultimate Impostor kept telling him to eat too, as Nagito was, fairly, thin and weak, weight lost by years of sickness.

He wanted to refuse their help, he didn’t deserve such kind attention from them, especially after what he had done in the program. But they wouldn’t take no for an answer, they were now all stuck together by their situations in a world that hated them. They only had each other now, Nagito included, and if they got a second chance then so could he.

The Luckster only had to accept their decisions, his ideals of hope crumbled with the Hope’s Peak files he had read and his virtual death, his luck was now canceled by Hajime’s artificial talents, and his little adventure into his own post-death fantasy world had opened his eyes quite a bit.

He kept tracing the fingers of his hand. It was tough to believe he had changed as a person, but he could tell there was a difference between him that entered Hope’s Peak, and him of today. Ibuki told him the self was constantly changing, and that there was nothing wrong with that. He decided to believe her, after all she was surprisingly wise on this topic. And there  _ was _ a huge year gap between that old him and the one he was now, only barely 16 when he stepped foot on the academy’s threshold and inside the program, and he was now standing tall at 22. A lot happens in 6 years.

His long self reflective thoughts were stopped when he spotted a figure sitting in the sand, below the dark night sky and before the sea. A single glance was enough to identify the person.

He calmly walked to the other. “Good evening Hajime. Or is it good morning?”

He was pretty sure the Ultimate Hope already knew he was there, with his many talents he could’ve just heard or smelled the Lucky Student. “It’s 2:24AM. So good morning.”

The brunet was in a position one would not see him a lot into. Crouching, hugging his knees, staring at the ocean. Nagito could take a guess as of why he was here. “Had a bad dream?”

Hajime stayed silent for a few seconds before asking in turn. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Nagito gently sat down next to the other. “And that’s why I’m here too.”

The Ultimate Hope let go of his knees and took a more confident pose as he looked the other’s way. “Do you want to talk about it?”

There it was. Ultimate Serenity Hajime, always ready to help everyone regardless of his own emotional distress. Such a touching display of kindness and lack of self care. “It’s nothing you don’t already know, just the usual nightmares. What about you?”

“Me..?” He acted as if caring about him was some kind of unbelievable act. That was more of Nagito’s shtick.

“Yes you. Do you want to talk about it?” Hajime had given him an ear and a shoulder to lean on more times than he could count, it was about time he returned the favor.

The brunet took his previous position, hugging his knees defensively.

The white haired man thought he should clarify that there was no need to feel pressured. “If you don’t want to that’s alright-”

“The project.” Hajime interrupted. “I-It was about the project.”

Nagito shut himself up and gave the other all of his attention.

“It was vivid and I- when I woke up I almost panicked, especially when I-”

Nagito noticed him run his hand through his hair, surely feeling the massive scar surrounding his skull. The average Future Foundation members who saw it called it disturbing and creepy, but none on the island would even think to name it that. Nagito especially, who had more than one daydream of gently caressing it, demonstrating to Hajime he wasn’t repulsed by it in the slightest.

The brunet hugged his legs harder. “I looked in the mirror to try and calm down, but it only made it worse… Everything just became worse and worse…”

“Why?”

Hajime looked at the other with watery eyes. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” Replied the Lucky Student with no hesitation.

The brunet bit his lip. He slowly loosened his grip on himself and got up with trembling motions.

Nagito got up as well and traced the other’s mouvement as Hajime reached for the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them.

Finishing with the last button, the Ultimate Hope slowly opened his clothing.

There were marks tracing Hajime's stomach to his torso, splitting itself into two to cover his upper body. The scars were old and faded, but still visible. Just like the one on his forehead.

“They tweaked my nervous systems, my muscles and tendons to connect it better to my brain, to empower it, to make me stronger. It’s ugly, isn’t it..?”

It wasn’t ugly. Nagito would never dare to call it ugly. He wanted to reach out and touch the scars, to show Hajime it was not unsightly, that he never saw him as anything else other than beautiful.

“Everytime I look in the mirror I’m reminded of everything. I recall the pain, the pain I suffered, the events I caused, what I have done to the world…”

Hajime’s hands clutched his shirt, he bit his lip and his legs shook.

“It’s all my fault. I participated in that project, I became Izuru, I helped…  _ her, _ and…” His voice shook as well. “And… I brought that fucking virus into the program…”

He had told the rest of the Class about his faults and his plan, Izuru’s plan of putting hope versus despair at the detriment of everyone else. No one was angry at him, as the damage had been fixed and Hajime had long since made up for his actions and helped everyone, but it seemed that scar ran much deeper than Nagito thought.

“I’m a monster. I’m the one that helped the world end, I’m the one that killed everyone in the simulation, if it weren’t for me we could’ve- You could’ve all lived normal lives!”

He fell to his knees.

“I only brought pain and suffering to everyone around me! Nothing I do goes well! Nothing I do brought happiness! My talents aren’t even earned! I’m a goddamn fabrication! Everything about me is worthless, boring and broken!”

He wasn’t, everyone who had gotten to know him knew it wasn’t true, but the brunet had to look at the evidence he had presented to himself.

His gaze fell to the ground, his next sentence came out as if squeaked out of his throat.  _ “Why am I still alive!?” _

Because he was strong, he supported everyone and solved the killings, carrying the class with him and opened a new path for them.

“I’m a mistake. My life was a mistake...” Hajime sobbed, his voice reduced to whispers. “I’m sorry guys… I’m sorry Chiaki…”

He looked up, staring into the Luckster’s gaze with tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry Nagito… I'm so sorry for existing…” He kept on mumbling apologies until his words turned to sniffles. He hid behind his hands to cry.

Nagito knelt down, slowly reaching out towards the brunet.

Hajime was always on guard, defensive, trying to appear strong for everyone’s sake. He kept his private emotions to himself, he confronted everyone, but himself never asked for help. He shut down his inner problems quietly, so no one would know, and no one would notice or worry.

Nagito didn’t know what to do. Someone so strong, so determined, so stubborn was now so weak before him. Apologizing over and over for everything wrong with the world to someone who had participated in that wrong. The white haired man’s robotic hand grazed Hajime’s skin, warm and wet by the tears. He was scared to break the brunet under his touch, having revealed his fragility to the other.

It only took a second touch for Hajime to launch himself onto the other’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Hajime seemed so small in the Luckster’s embrace, the strong muscles that supported all his talents felt like glass about to break. Nagito gently ran his hand across his friend’s back, feeling every cough and hiccup against him. Hajime was so close, he shared something so personal, his fear and emotions and showed his tears… It made the Lucky Student realize they had come such a long way, ever since that moment they met on that virtual beach. All of those moments forged his image of Hajime, and he treasured all of it.

The white haired Ultimate gently whispered. “Don’t apologize…”

The sobs were replaced by silent tears as Hajime tired himself out.

“We’ve done things wrong. I’m the first one that can attest to that.” He kept rubbing his hands on his back. “But you’re not wrong, you are not a mistake.”

The brunet grew more and more quiet and immobile.

“Your existence was not a mistake. I’m happy you exist Hajime, so does everyone else. They all appreciate you, Chiaki appreciated you too. You’re maybe Izuru too now, but you’re still the boy I’ve met on that beach, you’re still the one that saved us all.”

Hajime’s breathing became more regular.

“When I died in the Neo World Program, I had lost everything. My hope, my chance to become hope, my life… I was released. I fell into a world of my own fantasy, a world where nothing was wrong and I could live a normal boring life with no hope and no despair. After getting out, I wondered… why did I want this world?”

Hajime was silent.

“Then I realized. I didn’t want hope, I didn’t want despair, I didn’t want luck, I didn’t want a world where I had all of those. I understood why I broke out of it in the first place, because it wasn't perfect at all, because  _ you _ weren’t in it.”

Nagito almost laughed, the words were just falling out of mouth like a waterfall. He was ripping out a splinter from his side, opening a fresh wound to finally reveal it for the world to see, for Hajime to see.

He took a deep breath, and laid his head against the unmoving Hajime. “I wanted a world where you were with me. A world where you could love me. I wanted you to love me. Because I wanted to be selfish once in my life, I wanted the universe to grant me this one wish of being loved by someone.”

He squeezed the other a bit harder in his embrace, feeling every muscle, every pulse against him.

“A world where I wouldn’t have to worry about losing what was dear to me, where I felt no obligation to become a stepping stone for other’s hope, where I could finally find my own happiness. This is why I can say with confidence that your existence was not a mistake.”

He slid his hand in Hajime’s hair, spiky brown hair stinging against his robotic hand. He found it so soft.

“You make me want to be selfish, you make me want to be someone, you make me feel like I might be worth something, you make me want to create that world with you, you make me  _ happy.” _

“That’s the hope I want. That’s the  _ future _ I want. I want  _ you.” _

He gave a prayer to his lucky star, just this time, he would be selfish, and he would truly say it.

“I love you Hajime. I love your voice, your sass, your spiky hair, the way you get angry when things don’t go your way, your kindness towards everyone, the way you want to understand everything around you, your smarts, your looks, your prickly personality, the way you make me feel, your obliviousness, your little mistakes, your hope, I love  _ everything _ about you, talent or no talent. I love you so much you shattered everything I believed in. So, Hajime...”

He leaned into his ear.

“You’re not a mistake. Don’t apologize. I’m thankful you exist.”

Hajime didn’t answer. Nagito knew why, he cried himself to sleep. The brunet didn’t hear any of that long and devoted speech.

The white haired man picked up his friend, carrying him in his arms with some trouble, Nagito was still pretty weak. His shoes hit the sand of the beach as he walked back to the cottages.

It was alright. Hajime may have not been conscious to heed his words this time, but Nagito would be more than happy to say it again. Over and over. To patch the brunet’s wounds, to share his feelings, to make him realize how important he was.

He would chant his feelings as many times as it would take, until his throat dried and his body gave out. That was the future he wanted, the future he strived for with Hajime, and the future they would build together as one.

**Author's Note:**

> I see plenty of fics dealing with post-canon Nagito angst but why is there no one talking about the shit Hajme went through like geez this man needs a hug and a damn cofee break  
> The scars on his body are a bit of my personal HC, since Izuru/Hajime has super strength and speed, it would only make sense to me that he was litteraly opened up and his muscles tweaked so he could exert so much strength/speed/dexterity.  
> I also tried to do that loooong declaration justice, especially with all the stuff Nagito went through and the very clear charcter developement he got thanks to 2.5 (i love 2.5), and I wanted to show that. Let Nagito do the conforting for once!  
> And sorry for the little one-shot, I have a lot of AUs and it's been hell trying to finish even one of them, so it's gonna take a while dsjvndfsh but anyways, thank you for reading!


End file.
